


vesuvian nights

by vellichorvirgo



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Drunken Shenanigans, F/M, First Kiss, Fluff, Mutual Pining, Pre-Canon, Pre-Relationship, Teen Crush, Teen Romance, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-18 07:50:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21840787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vellichorvirgo/pseuds/vellichorvirgo
Summary: "Never heard of a young one like you not participating in the Masquerade," Aunt Zara would say from behind the counter of the shop, eyes twinkling. "Why don’t you get yourself a dress and a mask and head up to the palace? Everyone is invited, you know.""There’s no one for me to go with," Leda would always protest.Zara would only give her a knowing look that made Leda’s cheeks flame, and she would turn hurriedly away to hide her blush. Yes, there was someone who she could theoretically go with…——For two teenage magicians, three years' worth of pining leads up to one fateful Masquerade night...
Relationships: Apprentice/Asra (The Arcana), Asra (The Arcana)/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 32





	vesuvian nights

**Author's Note:**

> set about 6 years before the arcana - leda and asra are about 16 and 18 respectively.  
> (title is a play on 'arabian nights' from aladdin)

It was that time of year in Vesuvia. 

All week, Leda had been watching the city come alive with the Masquerade preparations. Decorations were strung, refreshments brewed, costumes and masks sold. The streets bustled with locals and visiting foreigners alike. And that was only in the city; Leda could only imagine the opulence and wonder inside the Palace itself. Although she’d been living in Vesuvia for nearly three years now and had already seen two Masquerades, she had never worked up the courage to do much more than wander the streets under the stars, caught up in the thrall of all the glittering, glorious revelry. It was so different from Lullin, the sleepy little village to the south where she had been raised, that it took Leda’s breath away. 

Aunt Zara always teased Leda for her shyness. _Never heard of a young one like you not participating in the Masquerade,_ she’d say from behind the counter of the shop, eyes twinkling. _Why don’t you get yourself a dress and a mask and head up to the palace? Everyone is invited, you know. Or even to one of the parties in the city. Gods know there’s plenty._

 _There’s no one for me to go with,_ Leda would always protest. 

Zara would only give her a knowing look that made Leda’s cheeks flame, and she would turn hurriedly away to hide her blush. Yes, there _was_ someone who she could theoretically go with… but every time she imagined actually asking Asra, her tongue tied itself into knots and her stomach melted into a thousand fluttering butterflies. She was positive actually attempting the feat would end in her own humiliation. 

And yet, she couldn’t stop imagining what it would be like… 

She’d actually met Asra during the Masquerade, just a handful of months after she’d fled Lullin and turned up unannounced on Zara’s doorstep. She’d been exploring when she discovered him telling fortunes behind her aunt’s shop. Although she’d been intrigued by the idea of tarot magic, she’d been more intrigued by the handsome white-haired magician with the smile bright enough to match the stars. 

Three years later, and her intrigue hadn’t faded. In fact, every awkward, flustered run-in they’d had had only served to deepen Leda’s infatuation. 

The tinkling of the bell above the shop’s door, shutting behind the last customer, jerked Leda out of her tangle of thoughts. Aunt Zara had been sick in bed for the last week, which meant that it fell to Leda to mind the shop. It was approaching evening, though, and the flow of customers had eased in the last hour; Leda doubted they’d get much more tonight. Especially considering what day it was.

Through the window, she could see the glow of lights against the falling dusk and the bustling crowds, clothed in their finest outfits, most of them masked. The steadily-building melody of music and voices and laughter reached her ears. It was the first day of the Masquerade, and Vesuvia was resplendent. 

With a sigh, Leda eased out from her spot behind the counter and reached for the broom. Might as well get an early start on sweeping up. 

As she began to clean, she found her gaze tugged once more toward the window. As she watched, a group of teenagers not much older than herself fluttered past. Their faces were smeared with glitter and paint, and one held a bottle of some fizzing drink triumphantly aloft. All of them were laughing raucously enough that Leda could hear the joyous, youthful sound even after they’d passed her window.

Her heart gave a wistful twist. 

She glanced between the window and the broom in her hands, considering. There probably wouldn’t be any more customers tonight, and she’d swept up earlier after an accidental potion spill in the afternoon, so the shop was already fairly clean. What few chores there were could be put off until tomorrow. And last time she’d checked, Zara had been fast asleep, so it was unlikely that she would need Leda for anything… 

Her mind was made up. A frisson of excitement went through her as she put away the broom and flipped the sign in the window from _open_ to _closed._ As she did, she caught sight of her reflection in the nearest mirror. She frowned as she eyed her plain, simple appearance. No, this wouldn’t do at all, not with all the spectacularly-dressed people milling about. 

She tiptoed upstairs to rifle through the closet, careful not to wake her aunt. After some searching, she found the blue dress she’d bought for herself on a whim a few months ago. She slipped it on, then pulled her hair free from its long braid. She considered styling it for a moment before she decided she liked the wild, loose dark waves better. 

She paused to scribble a note to Zara— _Went out to see the Masquerade, shouldn’t be gone long_ —, took a deep breath, and then stepped out the door. 

Between his tarot readings and Muriel’s hand-painted masks, the Masquerade always pulled in more than a few coins for Asra. He knew he should be pleased by this fact—gods knew they could use the money. But Muriel’s aversion to crowds meant that Asra was always left on his own to wander the streets and sit at his little stall behind the Saénes’ magic shop, which could get… lonely. And boring. 

Asra shuffled his deck before sighing, resting his chin in his palm. Speaking of being bored, he hadn’t had a visitor in several minutes. Before he could help it, he found his mind turning in the direction it always was—far too often for Asra’s good.

_I wonder what Leda’s doing._

He’d first met her three years ago, on a Masquerade night much like this one—right here at this very spot, in fact. She’d emerged from behind the group of giggling tourists he’d just given a reading to and asked, voice lilting in a melodic, decidedly-not-Vesuvian accent, for one for herself. 

Ever since the moment she’d turned those depthless ocean eyes on him, Asra had been smitten. For how much time they spent together, Asra spent twice as much time thinking of her: the musical sound of her laughter, the gentle beauty of her face, the sweetness of her smile. 

Maybe he was a fool for falling so hard for her when he didn’t even know if she felt the same way. But his feelings for Leda were as powerful and wild as the sea; there was no reining them in. 

Perhaps she was out enjoying the Masquerade festivities. The thought of running into her made Asra’s heartbeat skip a beat. Pushing the cards into his pocket, Asra rose to his feet and held out his arm for his familiar. “Come on, Faust. We’ve been sitting around for long enough. Shall we go try to find Leda?” 

_Friend?_ Faust asked excitedly, winding her way up to his shoulder. Asra suspected she’d been just as bored as him. Chuckling, he scratched her under the chin and set off. 

If Leda was out, Asra didn’t truly expect to find her in all the chaos. Vesuvia was always a lively place, but it seemed full to the brim during the Masquerade, near to bursting with movement and colour and sound. As Asra navigated the streets, he dodged groups of whirling dancers, jugglers tossing coloured balls into the air, vendors hawking their wares, clusters of sightseers. 

_Fun,_ Faust said, poking her head out of Asra’s sash. 

“Yes,” Asra agreed. _Would be more fun if I had company_ —

Wait. What was that?

His magic had sensed something—a whisper of familiar energy twining through the air. He searched the crowd as he moved in the direction it called him, heartbeat quickening… 

_There_. 

Just beyond a circle of musicians and dancers, leaning against a wall, was Leda. She had shed her usual simple attire for a dress the colour of the sky, her long dark hair tumbling around her. Her face was alight with pleasure as she watched the dancers, as bright as the sparks of magic twining around her fingers. 

Asra’s breath caught in his throat. 

The dance ended, and as the music shifted to a livelier, brighter tune, another began. Leda clapped along with the rest of the assembled onlookers, the action sending sparks of magic flying through the air like fireflies. 

She frowned down at her hands. They were always cold, even with Vesuvia’s eternally warm climate. She’d attempted a temperature spell to keep them warm, but it didn’t seem to be working. There weren’t supposed to be sparks, were there?

“It’s a beautiful night, isn’t it?” 

Slightly startled by the sudden voice, Leda glanced up. Her gaze met a pair of twinkling violet eyes, and her heartbeat stuttered. 

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to spook you.” Although Asra’s eyes became apologetic, the curve of his mouth remained playful. The glow of the lights caught in the edges of his snow-white curls, bathing them in warm gold. Leda wondered if they were as soft as they looked. She felt a sudden urge to find out. 

Willing her wayward heart to still, she smiled and shook her head. “That’s alright. I was just in my own head. Yes, it is a beautiful night.”

Something smooth and cool bumped Leda’s hand. When she looked down, a pair of beady red eyes stared up at her from a narrow, pale purple face, above a slit nose and a flickering tongue. Laughing, Leda reached out to rub her thumb over the snake’s head. “Hello to you too, Faust. Enjoying the Masquerade?”

“She certainly is,” Asra said, lifting Faust enough for her to wind her way around Leda’s arm and up to her shoulder. “Although she’s been rather bored with only me to keep her company.”

Leda laughed again and ducked her head, letting the snake bump her snout against Leda’s nose. “Is that why you’re so pleased to see me tonight?” 

“She’s always pleased to see you,” Asra corrected, his smile broadening. “As am I.” 

This brought warmth rushing to Leda’s cheeks. She hoped desperately that Asra couldn’t tell. “I’m-I’m happy to see you as well. Both of you.” 

_Gods, Leda, get yourself together!_

An awkward silence settled into the space between them as Leda desperately tried to think of what else to say. After a few excruciating moments, Asra gave her another apologetic smile and reached out for Faust. “Well, we won’t bother you for much longer. Should be getting back to see if anyone wants a tarot reading.” 

Leda’s heart sank in her chest, but she summoned a weak smile. “Oh. Of course.” 

“I’ll see you then, Leda.” With Faust back on his shoulder, Asra began to turn away. “Enjoy the Masquerade.” 

Leda wasn’t sure what possessed her to do what she did next, which was, just before he was swallowed up by the teeming crowd, to shout, “Asra, wait!” 

For a moment she thought he hadn’t heard her, but then he was turning around, coming back. One eyebrow was arched quizzically as he stared at her. “What is it?” 

Leda was sure he could see the flush on her cheeks now, but there was no turning back. Her words tumbled out of her all in a rush, as though trying to force themselves out before she lost her nerve entirely. “Um, I know you have… readings to give and masks to sell and everything, but I was wondering, um, if you… if you wanted to… see the Masquerade with me?”

Asra’s face spread into a brilliant smile, a dimple blooming in each cheek, and Leda’s stomach fluttered. “Why, Leda, I thought you’d never ask.” 

Asra, as a born-and-raised Vesuvian, had experienced the Masquerades since they’d first started. And yet, it wasn’t until he was capering through the streets of the city with Leda Saéne at his side that he truly saw the beauty of the celebration. 

Everything was different when he was with her, like he was seeing it all anew. Colours were brighter, scents sharper, sounds more melodic. _He_ was different, in a way he couldn’t quite describe but never wanted to stop feeling. 

They stopped by all the stalls, poking fun at the elaborate costumes, wondering about the more cryptic wares for sale, and pooling their money to buy delicacies so delicious they made Asra’s teeth ache. As they passed by a juggler, Asra gave Leda a mischievous grin and used a swift burst of magic to sweep the balls out of the man’s hands into his own. As impressed as he was with himself for the trick, he nearly made a fool of himself a second later—when Leda began laughing and he nearly dropped every last ball right on the ground. The sound was as sweet as honey, more melodious than any music he’d ever heard. And the light it sent straight to her green-blue eyes… 

Asra decided then and there to make her laugh as much as he possibly could. 

At some point they’d stumbled across a winemaker’s stall. Asra had been joking when he’d inclined his head in its direction and waggled his eyebrows at Leda—he’d been trying to make her laugh again. But she had surprised him by walking up to the stall and passing over her coins in exchange for a bottle they swapped between them as they walked. Somehow, in between these exchanges, Leda’s hand found its way into his. He didn’t mind one bit.

That was when time seemed to lose meaning, hours melting away from them. Asra had no idea how late it was, if he should be getting back, if Muriel was waiting for him. His world narrowed to music and light, the taste of wine on his lips, the happy sparkle in Leda’s eyes.

They found their way to another circle of musicians. Around them, a makeshift dance floor had formed. People bounced and twirled and swayed to the music, in couples and trios and groups clutching hands to form unsteady circles. 

“You know,” Leda’s breathy voice came in Asra’s ear, “in another life, I might have become a dancer instead of a magician.” 

Asra turned to look at her. He wasn’t in much of a place to judge, but the wine seemed to have taken its effect on Leda very quickly. Her eyes were dilated and her cheeks were flushed, and she couldn’t seem to stop giggling. 

He couldn’t believe how adorable it was. 

“Really?” he asked. “I never knew you could dance.”

Leda’s expression turned mischievous as she leaned in close to Asra, close enough for him to feel the warmth of her breath on his skin. “There are a lot of things you don’t know about me, Asra.” 

“Oh, is that so?”

“Mmhmm.” 

Turning to face Leda, Asra performed a dramatic bow and extended his hand to her with a flourish. “May I have this dance, my lady?” 

Leda, giggling, placed her hand in his. “You absolutely may.”

Leda barely registered the ache in her feet or the exhaustion heaving in her chest as she and Asra half-walked, half-stumbled along one of the emptier streets, the sounds of wild revelry beginning to fade behind them. Above their heads, the stars spilled out across the inky blue of the sky like a spread of tiny winking jewels. 

Leda couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so happy. 

Asra was telling a story—something about the time when he’d tried a new spell and accidentally turned his hair green for an entire day. Mid-laugh, Leda looked up and gasped. 

“What?” Asra asked, startled. 

“Look, it’s a piercing shop!” Snatching both of Asra’s hands in her own, Leda began tugging him toward it. “Come on, come on, come on. Let’s get one.” 

Although Asra was chuckling and unresistant as he let her pull him along, he wasn’t quite as excited about the prospect. “’M not sure if that’s a good idea, Leda.” 

“Why _notttt_ ?” Leda whined. “It’ll be fun.” When Asra only laughed again and shook his head at her, she stuck out her lip in a mock pout. “Fine, _I’ll_ get one. You can be my moral support.” 

“Alright, alright.” 

They practically tumbled through the door of the shop. Although the shopkeeper raised a brow at them, she asked dutifully, “Here for a piercing?”

Leda nodded enthusiastically.

“What would you like?”

“Hmm… not sure yet.” Leda fingered the pair of earrings she wore in each of her earlobes. “I’ve already gotten both my ears. Twice. Ears are boring.” 

Asra snickered.

“You could do your nose,” the shopkeeper suggested. 

“You mean my…” It took Leda a few seconds to think of the word. “My nostril?” 

“If you wanted. You could also do your septum, or—”

Leda’s eyes widened, interest sparking in her mind. “Where’s that?” 

The woman tapped her own nose between her nostrils, and Leda clapped her hands together. “That’s it! That’s where I want it.” 

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Asra’s brow furrow. “Won’t that hurt?” 

“Oh, Asra.” Leaning closer to him, Leda took his hands in hers again, revelling in the thrill that went through her every time they touched. “I’m tougher than I look. You don’t need to worry about me.” 

“It _hurts_!” Leda wailed as they made their unsteady way up to the front door of the magic shop. She’d been howling all the way from the piercing shop, hands fluttering over her red, swollen nose. People walking by probably thought that she’d broken it. 

“I know, I know,” Asra tried to soothe, although he was sure she heard the anxiety in his voice. He wasn’t sure where it came from—he was usually levelheaded when it came to injuries, but for some reason Leda being in pain made him feel like he was burning alive. 

Carefully, he undid the magical lock on the shop door and guided her inside, onto the nearest seat. He coaxed Leda’s hands away from her nose and almost immediately wished he hadn’t. Her nose just _looked_ painful, bad enough that he winced. 

“How long did she say it will take to heal?” he asked. 

“I don’t remember,” Leda whimpered miserably. Although Asra was beginning to sober up, he wasn’t sure the same could be said for her. “Six… six months, I think? Or more?” 

Asra winced again. “Do you want me to try to heal it?”

Leda seemed to consider this idea, then shook her head. “Might make it worse. I’ll… I’ll ask Aunt Zara in the morning.” 

That sounded like a good idea. Asra didn’t particularly trust himself to heal something like this, especially when the effects of the wine still hadn’t quite worn off yet. But that didn’t help the fact that Leda was still hurting and Asra couldn’t do anything about it. 

“Well, on the plus side,” he tried, “you do look very pretty.” 

Leda blushed, but a smile spread across her face too. Gingerly, she touched the simple ring in her septum. She immediately hissed, but the smile returned a moment later. “You think so?”

“I do.” 

Her smile broadened, sending that light to her eyes again. How was it possible that even now she made Asra’s breath catch in his throat? 

Seeing Leda’s fingers drifting back toward the piercing, Asra snatched her hands. “Leda, no! Stop touching it. It’s only going to make the pain worse.”

“I _know._ I can’t help it.” She glanced down at him, moonlight drifting in through the nearby window sparkling across her face, catching the edges of her wild hair. “Distract me.”

Asra blinked. He must have heard that wrong. “What?”

“Distract me,” she repeated. “If I stop thinking about it, I’ll stop touching it.” 

“What do you want me to do?”

“Anything. Whatever you want.” 

Asra’s heart stumbled. _Whatever you want…_

His body was acting before his mind had a chance to catch up. Before he knew it, he was tilting Leda’s chin down with a finger, leaning in, and pressing his lips to hers.

Leda made a soft sound in the back of her throat—surprise or pleasure, Asra wasn’t sure, although it didn’t sound like pain, to his relief. He had half a mind to pull away, but Leda’s fingers hooked the collar of his shirt and pulled him in closer. 

Leda didn’t know how long they spent kissing in the dusky light of the shop. She could gladly have kissed Asra until the sun came up, even with her septum throbbing, but Asra had been the one to pull away. He didn’t want to risk hurting her, he explained gently, and besides, it was… neither of them knew what time it was exactly, but it was _late._ He needed to get back home, and he told Leda that she needed to try to sleep. 

Leda stood by the window, watching as Asra made his way out into the night. He’d kissed her again at the door just before he left, and Leda’s head was still spinning. Even the wine hadn’t made her feel the way Asra did. 

Just before he disappeared from Leda’s line of sight, Asra turned back to look at her. As she watched, he touched his fingertips to his mouth and blew the kiss in her direction. Laughing, she mimicked catching it. 

That radiant smile spread across his face again before he turned around once more. 

Leda stood by the window long after he was gone. After what felt like an age, she turned and caught her own eye in a nearby mirror. Her hair was a mess, her nose was bright red, and she was sure she still smelled like wine, but on the inside, she felt like she was full of sunlight. 

“I should go see the Masquerade more often,” she mused to herself.

**Author's Note:**

> i've had the story of how asra and leda got together in my head for a while but i never wrote it, so i decided to tonight instead of studying for my history final. yay for procrastination! 
> 
> i hope you enjoyed it! i had a lot of fun writing it. comments are very very very highly appreciated ♡
> 
> (also, happy holidays!)


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